


Playing Omega

by belladonawritings



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Bottom Roy Mustang, First Time Bottoming, Humiliation, M/M, Military Ranks, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Office Sex, Painful Sex, Rape, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25020574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belladonawritings/pseuds/belladonawritings
Summary: Roy Mustang is summoned to Bradley's office early in the series, and he thinks it's just a routine meeting. Not so much, no.ABO, Alpha/Alpha noncon, treat for pt_tucker. Theoretically 03-verse because that's where I'm best at the characterization, but stealing at least one BH character and,, what is a canon timeline,,,
Relationships: King Bradley/Roy Mustang
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Playing Omega

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pt_tucker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/gifts).



> Hi pt_tucker! This is a treat rather than an outright gift, but still wanted to let you know that I HOPE this avoids all your DNWs. There's a few moments of Roy finding himself unwittingly enjoying a few parts at the end but I tried to position it very much as like, in the same area as forced orgasm/arousal? Mental defense mechanism rather than Actually Enjoying It. Anyway, I hope you get a kick out of it, I enjoyed writing it c:

There were certain things in the world that Roy Mustang, despite himself, took for granted; rules that introduced some level of structure into the chaos of the world. He knew, somewhere, that most of them were made up. But, still, it helped. Without structure, nothing made sense.

But standing in front of Fuhrer Bradley, he could feel that structure slipping away. “S-Sir?” He stammered, hated the weakness it showed.

“You’ve been asking too many questions, Mustang.” Bradley chuckled wryly, looking as harmless as ever, an old man with a quiet, kind presence. “Normally, I wouldn’t mind so much! But I want to know you’re loyal to your country. So. Pull down your trousers.”

In theory, Roy knew this kind of thing happened. But they didn’t happen to him. Not to –

_Not to Alphas,_ he admitted with a sigh to himself. He was grinding his teeth. That wasn’t going to help. _Just let him humiliate you. Play along._

“I’m sorry I gave that impression, sir.” Then, with more hesitation than he wanted, he began to unbutton his trousers.

“I can see that red face from here, Roy,” Bradley laughed again, and it just made the heat in his face worse. He could do this. This was fine. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of sex, with men and women. This wasn’t _that_ different.

He dropped his military trousers to his ankles – and in response to Bradley’s flick of his hand, stepped out of them.

“Boxers, huh?” Bradley’s smile was all the worse for the fact that he wasn’t noticeably aroused or stuttering in any way. Roy knew he was a handsome man, enough that he’d hoped for _some_ response, something that indicated that this could be about attraction and not just power. Maybe that was vain. “Funny, I’d expected you to be a briefs man. Get rid of them, too.”

Now Roy couldn’t hide the flush of humiliation at all. Stupid pale skin. He struggled to get it under control. It wasn’t like he’d _never_ been in this kind of situation before-

-no, actually. He hadn’t. He was an Alpha. That meant when people wanted to take advantage of him, they chose other ways. Not like this.

“Fuhrer Bradley, sir –“

“If you don’t want to,” he interrupted, voice somehow menacing even though he kept the conversational tone, “then perhaps that lieutenant of yours will be more flexible. Riza, isn’t it? Or perhaps the little alchemist. I’m sure I must have something he wants.”

A chill of horror ran down Roy’s spine. If he didn’t play along, Bradley would go after _them._ The thought of Edward being forced into something so humiliating – no, this was better.

“Forgive me, sir. That won’t be necessary.” He pulled down his boxers, putting them to the side with his trousers.

“Now the rest.”

Ah. Bradley intended to have him standing nude in the middle of his office. Mustang glanced at the door. Unlocked. And Bradley had all sorts of appointments.

“I actually have an appointment in fifteen minutes, if that’s what you were wondering.” Bradley _was_ starting to sound oddly self-satisfied now. Fucker.

Roy just nodded, going along with it for now. He peeled off his gloves, feeling a twinge of fear as he did so; it would have been so _easy_ to just light Bradley on fire where he stood. Instead, he was helpless.

_Not helpless._ He was still in Bradley’s office. He was still here. He could handle a little bit of sexual humiliation.

Finally, he stood completely nude in front of Bradley’s desk. He was completely soft – thank god for small mercies – but Bradley seemed to find that even more amusing.

“Hm, hm.” Bradley got to his feet, picking up his sheathed sword and lifting Roy’s chin with the hilt. “You _are_ a handsome boy.”

_Man,_ Roy bit back. He was twenty-nine years old – about as far from ‘boy’ as it got.

“I can see that defiance in your eyes. You can’t hide that from me, or that sullen little pout.” Bradley smacked Roy’s cheek gently but firmly with the sword hilt. “And an Alpha, too. I think I knew that, but that’s alright. The human body is flexible.”

For the first time, Roy blanched, taking an unwilling step backward. Omegas were _built_ for that; for taking knots and getting fucked. Alphas weren’t.

A flash of something – rage, or maybe just annoyance – appeared over Bradley’s features. “Scared, Roy?” Then suddenly Bradley’s hand was in his hair, and Roy’s face slammed into the desk. His vision went black for a moment, and even before it recovered, he felt Bradley’s fingers ghosting over his ass before tracing circles around his asshole.

“You’re so attached to some vision of what being an Alpha means. Let me tell you something, Roy.” One finger pushed into him, and Roy tensed up, squeezing around it despite himself and trembling slightly as it felt different than he expected. “Alpha, beta, omega – those are just words. They don’t give you power. Only _power_ gives you power.”

“Fuck you,” Roy spat out, the false obsequience gone. He couldn’t see Bradley, but he heard the little murmur of approval.

“Much better. I think it’s much easier to get the measure of a person when they’re genuinely afraid, don’t you? It’s harder to lie through your teeth bent over a desk, or with somebody’s fingers in you.”

He wasn’t _wrong,_ Roy thought angrily. Which was why he had to get out. Now. He tried to push away from the desk, but Bradley shoved him back down and stuffed another finger into him. It hurt, it hurt, it _hurt-_

Bradley started pushing the fingers in and out, dry flesh against flesh, and then – thank god thank god thank god – they pulled out. Maybe he was done. Maybe he was safe.

Then something _cold_ pressed against him, and it took Roy a few seconds to realize that it was the hilt of Bradley’s sword and by the time it processed, it was _inside him._ He bit his tongue so hard to stop himself from reacting that he tasted blood in his mouth. God, it was thick and hard and nothing, _nothing_ like Bradley’s fingers. How could Omegas stand this? Slick was good, slick helped, but the feeling was _horrible._

“There we go, starting to loosen you up. Bodies are so fascinating, aren’t they? Omegas aren’t really shaped all that differently from us, you know. Nor are betas. It’s just small differences, like slick and knots, that we imbue with importance.”

“I’m not here for your – _unf –_ philosophy lecture-“ Roy hissed, then cried out despite himself as Bradley fucked the hilt deeper into him.

“You should listen. Maybe you’ll learn something.” Bradley spat into his hand, and then there was the sound of a zipper. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He was naked. He couldn’t just run. But he could try –

This time, he got away from the desk before Bradley caught him again with inhuman strength. He caught a flash of Bradley’s thick cock hanging from his fly before the Fuhrer forced him against the wall, kicking his legs apart.

“I suggest you stop fighting, Roy. It’d be unfortunate if I had to ram the other end of my sword into you.”

Roy lowered his head, fighting the urge to cry or vomit. He could handle it. He could handle it. He could handle it.

Bradley spread Roy’s ass with his thumbs, and with only a bit of spit as lube, began working his way into him. Immediately, Roy could feel that he was in trouble. He’d caught a glimpse, and that had been bad enough, but Bradley’s cock was thick and girthy and god knew how long – he was going to get torn open, he already hurt so _badly-_

Just the tip. Roy could feel it inside him, a foreign body invading him, way too thick to fit, but the pressure of Bradley’s hips was pushing it in anyway. Was his entrance just chafing at the unexpected intrusion or was he tearing?

“I do so love being somebody’s first,” Bradley said, and Roy felt himself lose it again, fighting against Bradley’s grip, desperate to make it _stop –_ but Bradley pushed him all the more firmly against the plaster wall, and the more Roy struggled, the deeper the horrid thing fucked into him, and the more Roy could hear Bradley’s ragged breathing. He was getting off on Roy’s pain.

He could handle it. He thought. Maybe. Maybe.

“P-please don’t –“

“Don’t what, Roy? Don’t stop raping you?”

He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t that pathetic. But his voice was so soft as he forced it out that the humiliation _burned._ “Don’t make me take the knot.”

Bradley fucked him slowly, still not completely sheathed in him, and there was a glimmer of hope that perhaps he’d take this as enough humiliation. Then he pushed Roy even closer to the wall, until Roy’s half-hard cock was rubbing painfully against the cold stucco and his exposed nipples were hardening on the wall. Why was he even hard? There was no reason to be. His body just had his own ideas, apparently.

“You don’t tell me what to do.”

He forced himself the rest of way into Roy’s – _cunt its just a cunt now –_ and Roy’s vision went black. He didn’t quite pass out. Almost. He felt Bradley holding him up, his weight resting on Bradley’s arms, the strength gone from him. He wasn’t going to pass out, because that would be losing, that would be giving up.

It wasn’t even all the way in. Everything from his hips down to his knees was just _pain._ Pain, and – somewhere underneath it all – a small twinge of pleasure. Almost. The ghost of something that could have been pleasure. The knot was pushing past his prostate, and his cock was hard in front of him, he just could barely register it. He wasn’t a masochist.

Then, finally, with something that felt grotesquely like a _pop,_ the knot was inside of him. He was being knotted. Something trickled down the back of his leg – cum, he hoped, or sweat, although the other possibilities weren’t far from his mind.

“There we go. Not so rebellious now.”

He could barely breathe. Every time he breathed in, the shaft in his stomach felt bigger. But…

_But I can still think. Enough._

Think what? He’d lost. He was the Fuhrer’s breeding bitch, he was being used like a fucking _whore –_

He was alive. He was here. Just because he was being used more than he thought didn’t make any of his plans different. He tightened his hand into a fist against the wall – then relaxed it.

“Not so smart now, I see.” Bradley started grinding the knot into him, and Roy let himself yelp and whimper, no longer holding back the little pathetic noises that fell from his lips. All the better. Let Bradley underestimate him. _And besides,_ whispered a little part of him, _you like this, don’t you, you like being hurt and destroyed –_

He wasn’t a masochist. Not to this degree. He doubted many people were. “I’m sorry, sir,” he mewled. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry –“

“Apologize all you want.” Bradley’s voice was even more ragged than before. “I’m not letting you go until your stomach’s full with my seed. Don’t worry, as far as I’m aware, Alphas can’t get pregnant.”

Roy just whined again. Then, to his unfeigned humiliation, the door opened. He hid his face, but he needn’t have bothered. Everybody had seen him walk in.

“Fuhrer Bradley, sir, General Raven here to see you.”

“Thank you, Juliet.”

“Sir, the administrative team requests that you keep it down. We’re having trouble concentrating.”

Bradley laughed. “Very fair! Please pass on my apologies.” The door closed again as Juliet left. “Raven! Glad you could make it. Before we talk business, would you like to help me keep his mouth occupied?”

Raven just grinned. “I see you’re teaching that annoying upstart his place finally. You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Roy glanced over as Raven undid his fly, then yelped as Bradley pulled him off the wall, lowering him down with his toes barely on the floor and still impaled on Bradley’s knot. He still had to play the part. “S-sir, I’m sorry, I’m sorry –“

“Oh, shut up, Mustang.” Raven shoved his cock into Roy’s mouth, and it tasted foul, but Roy did his job anyway, arms hanging useless down below him as the two of them used him. They thought he was broken, too busy being raped to pay attention to the lack of surprise Raven showed, or the fact that Bradley hadn’t so much as turned his head to look at the two of them even though that was the side that was supposedly blind.

The humiliation stung. Of course it did. But as Raven’s knot swelled behind Roy’s teeth, he wondered if either of them had even considered that anybody with an ounce of intelligence knew how to play dead.


End file.
